The Legacy of Mar
by Fishyicon
Summary: The world he had fought so arduously to protect was safe from any looming threat that Jak could possibly conjure up in his hard-head. Suicidal mission after suicidal mission, he had never once given up. And now it was done. Slight Jak/Keira. A retelling.


**A/N: Sincerest apologies. I have misplaced all the plans for the continuation of this story in cleaning up my hard drive. As a result, it's unlikely that this will continue as a full length story, but I hope it's enjoyable as a one-shot. Sorry to all who had their hopes up-if ever I locate the files, I will do my best to bring this back to life!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the title "Jak and Daxter." Naughty Dog does! Standing ovation, please!**

**Enjoy!**

The end.

It was over. Finished. The world he had fought so arduously to protect was safe from any looming threat that Jak could possibly conjure up in his hard-head. Year after year, adventure after adventure, suicidal mission after suicidal mission, he had never once given up. And now, it seemed that his efforts would finally be realized.

The torches of Spargus's volcanic crater arena were alight and blazing with flame. A cool night breeze swept through the chamber, allowing the many flags and pendants to beat and flow like the waves from the ocean visible through the large mouth of the cavern-stadium. However, the heat from the bubbling lava was so overpowering that one could not even fathom how the wind was able to reach the flags, but not them. Furthermore, how said wind could be strong enough to make the pendants pulsate in such an obvious way. Perhaps it was actually the updraft from the volcano's heat.

The rows of seats were filled with cheering citizens. All were residents of Spargus. No Haven-dwellers were allowed to come to this ceremony; there was still the secret of the Wasteland to protect. Only Jak's friends and otherwise important people were given the honour of witnessing the events from the central platforms usually reserved for the King, his guards and the subject of the gathering.

In the center of the cavern sat a large, majestic spacecraft. It was fashioned entirely out of Precursor metal, an element that looked rather like copper, but perhaps more like gold or bronze. In the days of the First Metal Head War, the metal had been used to create armour and occasionally weapons, regularly sword hilts. Even prior to that, the Precursors themselves had crafted many useful artefacts out of the durable metal. But all those supplies had been used up, and what was left could scarcely be found in any form. It was incredible that Jak possessed an entire suit of armour made from Precursor metal. Mar had been the previous owner of the equipment.

However, Jak _was_ Mar. The confusion ended there.

Aside from the Precursor metal, the craft glowed through various futuristic windows and other apertures that served a purpose that Jak was not familiar with. He wondered how many Precursors must have been able to travel in such a large ship. Certainly fifty, possible more adult elves could make a decent living inside.

But since the Precursors were much smaller, and much fuzzier, the number was unquestionably subject to change.

The Precursors. Even the name had been cause for acclaim not an hour earlier. But upon revelation of their true being, the gods' reputation had decreased significantly. As they had known only too well it would, should their secret ever be exposed.

Of course, it had been none other than Jak and Daxter, the world's two most unlikely heroes, who discovered this too-long-kept secret. After a series of hero-defining events, including the untimely death of Jak's father, the two best friends had arrived in the center of the planet via the catacombs. They were granted the privilege of coming face-to-face with the Precursors themselves. But thanks to Daxter's tenacity, the gods had inadvertently revealed a little too much.

Everything Jak, Daxter, anyone had ever known, had turned out to be nothing but a scam. The Precursors were not mighty, glowing beings, but ottsels. Ottsels! The most powerful creatures in the universe, the creators of this world and countless others were of the same species as the loud, obnoxious and narcissistic Daxter.

That fact alone was too much for Jak to wrap his head around. That, plus his father's death, his saving of the world for the second time, the crazy Erol's death for the second time, was enough to make his head burst. Not to mention some newly-introduced relationship problems he would now have to resolve…. He had been half expecting to spontaneously combust as he processed all these thoughts over the past couple of days.

Jak wished he could run away and hide on some roof, quietly contemplating his curious existence while he gazed upon the stars and the black void that used to hold the strange and deadly Day Star. Or perhaps he would take the fastest vehicle in Spargus's garage and speed away, far into the clutches of the Wasteland and beyond, not returning if possible. Hell, it would have even been nice to take the KG transport back to Haven City and avail himself of one of the beds in the Freedom League's Head Quarters. After all, if there was one thing Jak lacked, it was sleep. And possibly sufficient nourishment.

Of course Daxter would accompany him on any of these trips. Whilst Jak's best friend was the expert on loud, fruitless chatter, it was exactly that that helped him relax. Just hearing Daxter rant on about something he had seen in the Bazaar earlier. Or how much he loved it when Tess scratched him behind the ears. Or how awful their lives were, particularly his, what with his un-pantsed predicament. That was what kept Jak sane and grounded (even though he had recently gained the ability to sprout wings).

But Jak was a hero, or so they called him. (He didn't understand why, especially since it was those same people that had declared him an outlaw and a monster not long ago. For some reason, they had needed him to save them not once but twice before the kinder word had set in.) And heroes were never allowed the privilege of freedom. They were always constricted to something. And at that moment, the "something" was a ceremony of thanks, called to order by the ottsels – ahem, Precursors.

"Thank you, brave people of this planet," said the leader, a plump, formal-looking ottsel in grey robes. He carried a sceptre at his side, made of Precursor metal curled into an intricate design with a glowing orb at the top. The two other Precursors stood beside him on a platform that protruded from the glorious spacecraft, one on each side. The dumb-looking ottsel stood on his right, sporting a helmet that covered his eyes (more evidence to the description), an ill-fitting white shirt and belted khaki shorts with three pant-legs – two for the feet and one for the tail. On the right stood a surfer-esque Precursor, also with three-legged pants and a light shirt. However, he stood out because of the tufts of brown fur at the tips of his paws, tail and ears.

"Onin, Samos and all," continued the leader, gesturing to the respective elders as he called their names. "Your strength and wisdom in these dark times give us reason to fight on."

"My life's work, it turns out, was spent searching for a bunch of fur balls," muttered Samos, loudly but mostly to himself. The Green Sage had been none too happy when the Precursors he had dedicated his life to searching for appeared as short, orange ottsels. Samos still held some prejudice towards the species thanks to Daxter's rebellious attitude and many snide remarks. But he knew that would have to end now.

"Onin says it is a great day for the universe!" exclaimed Pecker, the elder woman's monkaw translator. Onin had lost her voice and eyesight in a terrible accident, and was now only able to convey her words through hand signals. Pecker was perched on top of the throne on which Sig, the great Wastelander, was seated. As King Damas's right-hand-man and loyal friend, it was no question that he would temporarily take over the city. But since Jak, Damas's son and the city's only heir, had no plans to claim it any time soon, most expected Sig to remain King. Thankfully, this pleased everyone. Sig was a very respected and well-liked Wastelander, and no doubt a prime choice for Spargus's leader.

The Precursor leader then turned to address Jak who had been waiting patiently throughout this entire scene's development. Not that he wanted praise; he just wanted it to be over so he could leave and try to figure out how he would survive the weeks to come.

"Jak, you are the greatest of heroes," the leader began. "You have turned the tide against the Dark Makers, and together, we will win this war."

Jak was more than a little confused at that statement. Win this war? Had he not won it for everyone by single-handedly defeating Count Veger, the Metal Heads, Erol _and_ the Dark Makers? What more was there to do before there could be peace again?

"But dude," the surfer ottsel called, snapping Jak out of his reflection. "There are, like, _way _more challenges in the future."

"Ha!" laughed the dummy ottsel. His expression then turned confused. "…Or was it the past?"

"Yes, yes, I was getting to that!" said the leader sharply.

This did nothing more that confuse Jak further. Future? Past? He had had enough time travel excitement to last a lifetime. But he managed to keep his expression in its normal collected state, with a slightly amused grin pulling at the edges of his lips.

"More adventures? Where have I heard that before?" Jak inquired sarcastically.

"We need heroes like you to help us protect the universe, Jak," explained the centered ottsel.

"Then you can call me by my first name." Jak's expression had abruptly turned solemn. "By what my father called me: _Mar._"

This was met by varying degrees of shock from all present. Only Daxter had been in the know, as far as Jak knew, his orange friend was the only one that knew of his history. Of course, it all made sense, when one thought about it. The younger version of Jak who had been in Haven City was the heir to Haven's throne; ergo, so was Jak. And all blood descendants were of course of the line of Mar, the founder and builder of Haven City. Damas had been ruler of Haven before he was betrayed by Baron Praxis and banished to the Wasteland. Damas's only child, named Mar, had been kidnapped at a young age by Veger, brought to Haven City, and eventually had found his way to into the Underground. It wasn't as complicated as it seemed. All it took was a bit of logical thinking.

"Wait, Jak is Mar?" Jak heard Ashelin ask off to the side. He didn't dare look at the red-headed Governess of Haven City, not after what had happened the other day. "_The_ Mar?"

_No,_ thought Jak. _Not_ the_ Mar. Just his distant descendant who happens to have the same name. It's just a coincidence._

"Come then, Mar," said the ottsel leader, gesturing towards the entrance to the large ship. "No time like the present."

Again with the time-travel references. Jak truly believed now more than ever that his head was going to explode.

Jak began to make his way up the steps, never one for goodbyes. But he turned halfway up, feeling he owed it to his best friend at the very least. "You coming, Dax?"

Daxter sighed contentedly and leaned back against his girlfriend, arms folded behind his head. "Nah, I got all I need right here. But if you need me – and I _know you will_ – you know where to find me."

Jak smiled at this. He hadn't expected Daxter accompany him on his victory expedition, and it wasn't fair to drag him along, after all he'd been through. Besides, he looked perfectly appeased right there with Tess.

"Ooh, Daxter," cooed Tess, Daxter's blond (and elven) girlfriend. She scratched him appreciatively on his stomach, causing Daxter to purr and sigh once again. "My little hero!"

"We owe you much, Daxter, for all you've done," said the ottsel leader. Daxter seemed to perk up at this, allowing himself to be gently stirred out of his happiness. "For your bravery in the face of incredible danger, we shall grant you your deepest desire."

By now, Daxter had pulled himself out of Tess's embrace and onto his nimble ottsel paws. Jak felt his chest take a sharp intake of breath. _Here it comes,_ he thought. After years of torment, whining and near-death situations, Daxter would finally get what he had wanted right from the very beginning of their adventures. In fact, it was that very wish that had unleashed the train of events and set both his and Jak's destinies.

He would get to become an elf again. Jak couldn't help but feel happy for his friend, but something was gnawing at him deep down. Perhaps it was the knowledge that Daxter would be much heavier to carry around on his shoulder, as he assumed the ottsel would insist he do even in elven form.

Nevertheless, Daxter seemed to contemplate his choices for a minute. And when he finally spoke, Jak felt his eyes widen in shock of their own volition.

"You know, I could really use a snazzy pair of pants. Like yours!"

The ottsel leader pointed his staff in Daxter's direction, and a beam of light shot out of it. It hit Daxter square in the stomach, but he didn't seem to suffer any pain. After a bright flash, Daxter stood there and admired himself, fully-pantsed for the first time in years. He was now dressed in three-quarter-length jeans with a brown belt and patches over the knees.

Pants? He had chosen pants of the prospect of becoming a real elf again?

Of course he had. Daxter had kept up a running gag of his un-pantsed situation for years.

_Wow,_ Jak thought, being sarcastic to himself for some unfathomable reason. _He must really like riding on my shoulder. Or all the attention he gets from being orange._ It didn't take Jak long to realize it was all those things together that contributed to Daxter's desire of having pants.

"Wow, those are sharp!" remarked Tess. She sighed down at her own jean shorts. "I wish I had a pair just like that!"

"Be careful what you wish for," began the ottsel leader slyly, and directed another beam, this time at Tess. Before she had time to gasp, the bright light flashed again, and Tess fell down on the bench, orange and remarkably shorter than before.

While everyone else was still dumbfounded by shock, Daxter whistled in admiration and helped his now-ottsel girlfriend to her feet.

"Don't worry honey," he consoled, but never without that slightly entertained and positive tone. "You'll get used to it. Oh, but you may want to shave some parts…." He trailed off, and took the opportunity to sweep Tess around into his arms, with himself in the vantage position, of course. "Trust me."

He then leaned forward, and Tess complied, moving in as well.

"Hey!" called Jak just as their lips were about to meet. They both pulled back in alarm and looked up at Jak, who was smiling at the irony. It was typically Daxter who interrupted his moments, so Jak cherished the thought that Daxter wouldn't get away with it. However, Daxter would have plenty of time, undoubtedly without interference. Whereas Jak…

He shook those thoughts from his head. He would deal with Ashelin, and more importantly, Keira, when he returned. If he returned.

"Thanks for everything, partner," Jak finished with a gratifying smile.

The monk, Seem, whispered something off to the side. Only eco-amplifies ears such as Jak's could detect her words.

"You are a great hero, Daxter." It looked like Seem had finally warmed up to Jak's orange sidekick.

"This is gonna be good!" Daxter said. He bowed deeply. "They think I'm a God. And they're right!"

Just then, Jak caught sight of an impossibly bright and pure light from behind him. He and the three ottsels turned around to see that the circular door to the Precursor spacecraft had opened behind them, exposing a bright light and familiar chant of "Our hero!"

_This is it,_ Jak thought. _After all I've been through, this is where it ends. Aboard a Precursor spacecraft about to travel the universe for Mar knows how long._

Unable to resist, Jak glanced upon all his friends. They were all watching him with various expressions, most that Jak didn't care to identify. His eyes didn't stop scanning until they landed on Keira. She was glaring at him, jaw set, arms crossed over her slender body, exquisite green eyes narrowed and cold, beautiful face frowning and displeased.

Jak felt his face fall. He could save the world many times over, but he couldn't get up the nerve to even speak to Keira over the last day-and-a-half. She had no doubt heard about the scene between him and Ashelin, and he hadn't even cared to explain it to her himself.

But what could he say? He could claim it had been excitement, or shock, or even just out of friendship. But none of things would sound very appropriate, or worthy of her forgiveness. She had every right to be mad at him. He was familiar with the feeling, back from when he had heard about Keira with Erol. It seemed fate didn't want them together.

There was only one thing that he could say that would be even remotely suitable to the situation. He tried to convey it through his eyes, blue to green.

_Sorry, Keira. I'm so sorry. You don't deserve that, and I promise, one day I will make it up to you. _

There was also a subtle "I love you" in the message, but he didn't quite know how to show that. He hoped she could read it all the same.

He hopes were realized, if only ever so slightly, when her face lightened, her eyes becoming less cold, her arms dropping to her sides. She kept her face impassive, but Jak took confidence from the fact that it was no longer openly angry. He sent the message over and over again, until the ottsel leader's voice pulled him back to reality.

"Are you ready, Jak? We have something to show you."

"What?" Jak asked.

"The universe!"

And with that, all three ottsels entered the ship. Jak gave a slight wave of his hand to no one in particular, then proceeded after them. The large doors closed behind them, portions emerging from the frame and resealing in a star formation.

Not a moment later, the ship began to rise without warning. Jak stumbled from the sudden lurch.

"You might wanna hold on to something, buddy," the surfer ottsel warned. "This thing can get more intense than a wave in a storm."

Jak grabbed onto a bar that he located near the wall. His eyes had yet to adjust to the odd lighting of the ship's interior, so he shut his eyes as the ship continued upwards.

_Love you, Keir. Sorry I didn't tell you before._

Keira watched the giant craft lift until it disappeared into the starry night sky, another light among thousands.

_Bye, Jak. Love you._

* * *

**Rock on,**

**~Fishyicon**


End file.
